Flowers
by V Tsuion
Summary: A series of Holmes X Watson drabbles, all involving flowers. I own nothing. Currently on hiatus.
1. Roses

**[Author's Note: I know, flowers, such a fail cliched theme, but I have a reason; the title of a story I read in English the day I wrote this was called "The Flowers". Coincidentally, the story I read in English is not at all related, not even including any romance at all. Oh well, comment and tell me what you think!]**

**Roses**

I looked down at the roses in my hand as I walked down the street. They pricked my fingers, but I didn't mind it due to all the times I had used the needle, though I hadn't in a while. Buying the flowers had just been an impulse; I had been going on a walk after arguing with Watson about going to the wrestling ring again. He really didn't like it when I went, but sometimes I just wanted a physical challenge and not just the mental challenges my work gave me.

I was taking a walk to give Watson the time to cool down when I saw someone selling flowers on the side of the road and I decided to buy a bouquet of roses. I walked back up to our rooms, hiding the roses behind my back. The fact that Lestrade had seen me buying the roses flashed through my mind. Fortunately my face had remained impassive as he assumed I had bought them for a "Lady friend" as he put it. I internally sighed, what would have happened had he known. With that thought in mind I walked in the door, passing Ms. Hudson and into our main room.

Watson turned towards the door as I walked in, he wore an impatient and worried look "You didn't go back to the ring, did you?"

I sighed audibly "Why must you always assume the worst?"

"Why are you holding your hand behind your back?" he asked exasperated, ignoring both my sigh and my question.

I walked up to him and slowly removed my hand with roses from behind my back. I held them out to Watson, "I was going on a walk and I saw someone selling them, I thought you'd want a few." I blushed as he held out his hand and took the roses from my by then heavily pricked hand.

He then took one look at my hand and sighed good-humouredly "Can you go on a single outing without hurting yourself?" he teased. We both laughed as he went to get some medicinal cream for my hand.


	2. Pansies

**Pansies**

Holmes was dead, I just had to get used to it. I sat in front of the great detective's grave and put my hand on the grave stone, the flower I put down yesterday was gone.

I knew no body had been found, and honestly, who would expect any different, he had been pushed off the edge of some very high cliffs into a water fall after all. But with no body found I couldn't help but hope that he was still alive, it was very stupid of me, being a doctor and all. And I hadn't even told him how I felt, before he... I couldn't believe that Holmes of all people actually died. He seemed so immortal, though he had looked worn when he came in through my window that day.

I looked at the Pansies in my hand and put them on his grave stone, maybe somehow he'd see them, and remember me, and maybe he'd feel the same way. I sighed, who was I kidding; Holmes couldn't have survived the drop. If he was alive or dead, why would he love, he couldn't I was sure of it, we all were. _Him_ finding someone had even become a sort of joke amongst those of the Yard he worked with, so I had heard. And even if he could why would he love me of all people, though I was his best friend, it was illegal, though, I smiled as I remembered, he had never let the law stop him.

I heard rustling in the bushes behind me, probably just some wild animal watching my lamentation. I brushed my hand over the grave and said a silent prayer; maybe someone up there would hear me.

~POV switch~

I watched Watson silently crouch near my grave, my somber grey eyes almost gave to tears, yet I held back, it took all my might, yet I held. I then walked up to my own grave. It was an odd sensation; it always was when I came there. I hadn't died, I hadn't even fallen. Instead I had pushed Moriaty down instead of me and fled as a move of strategy so the other members of his gang wouldn't hunt me down. I touched the head stone, where Watson had touched many timed before.

I came daily after seeing Watson put flowers there, I took each flower and kept them all as a record of how long it had been since I left. I would through them away once I returned. If Watson ever wanted to talk to me again after the letter I gave him. Though he seems to miss me so much, maybe I was lucky and he didn't read it, but then I'll have to reveal it in person some time.

I felt so sorry for him; I knew what it was like to miss a friend, and to have a friend die. I had only told my brother that I was still alive, but I in some respects regretted not telling Watson, I would have had I not written him the letter. I picked up the Pansies that Watson left, and carried them away.


End file.
